One Day
by Honeeym
Summary: AU. Companion piece to "Permanent Stain". After realizing she isn't in love with Tyler anymore, Caroline travels to New Orleans to determine the nature of her feelings for Klaus. When she gets there, she finds out he's going to be a father. The Original Hybrid convinces her to spend one day together before she writes him off for good.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Vampire Diaries, nor make any profit from this story.

**Pairin**g: Klaroline.

**Summary:** Companion piece to "Permanent Stain". After realizing she isn't in love with Tyler anymore, Caroline travels to New Orleans to determine the nature of her feelings for Klaus. When she gets there, she finds out he's going to be a father. The Original Hybrid convinces her to spend one day with him before she writes him off for good.

* * *

**One Day**

Caroline enjoyed the soft breeze whipping past her face as she fell into Klaus' purposefully lazy steps. Wide-eyed and barely containing her enthusiasm, she absorbed everything about New Orleans, marveling at how _unreal _it was. From the street dancers to the continuous coming and going of large groups of people, to the smell of gumbo that titillated her nose at every turn, she was becoming enamored with every detail about this city.

As a small town girl, she could tell the difference between the semblance of life that was perpetuated in Mystic Falls and the genuine, fresh breath of life that exhaled from every person who crossed her path.

She blinked and blushed when Klaus touched his fingers to her bare arm, trying to catch her attention. He was eyeing her with a knowing smile and she bit her lip in embarrassment – she was overwhelmed by the grandeur of New Orleans, but that was nothing to him. He'd been places and seen more _genuine beauty _than she would ever be able to imagine.

"Is everything alright, love?" he pushed delicately. "You are…quiet."

Before she could formulate an answer that wouldn't betray the extent of her amazement, a middle-aged woman with a strong limp walked up to them, dragging a heavy baggage behind her. Klaus smirked in silence and nodded to her.

"Madeline," he greeted. "Meet my…friend Caroline."

"Oh," the woman said. "Is that the girl I've heard so much about?"

"Do _not _start, Maddie," Klaus growled, causing the woman to laugh.

"I'm just asking," she defended herself. "People talk to an old woman like me, y'know."

Klaus snorted and turned to Caroline.

"When she says _people_, she means _spirits_," he clarified. "Madeline is a witch."

Caroline imperceptibly tensed, but her reluctance was rapidly defeated by the woman's heartfelt smile. She was the stereotype of the benevolent grandmother – her light brown eyes shone with mischief and hidden treasures. She seemed trustworthy. Caroline extended her hand to shake hers.

"Nice to meet you."

"Hey there, doll," the dark-skinned woman exclaimed with a heavy Southern accent, before turning to Klaus. "She's got a beautiful aura, I like her."

Caroline flipped her hair over her shoulder in acceptance of the compliment.

"So…What are the spirits saying about me?" she asked lightly.

"They say you're playing Cinderella for a day," Madeline answered knowingly. "Which means you need a fairy Godmother."

"When she says _fairy_, she means _witchy_," Klaus dropped in.

Caroline observed the unspoken camaraderie between the two, yet again amazed to discover that lightness to the habitually dark Original Hybrid. She couldn't help a tender smile when Klaus helped the woman unpack to reveal an easel, a blank canvas, brushes and tubes of paint.

_An artist. _

"So…you gon' let me do my thing today, Klaus?" Madeline asked tiredly.

Caroline inhaled shortly as Klaus retrieved an abandoned chair from the vicinity using his supernatural speed and helped Madeline sit. His gentleness and the general calmness that exuded from him were half a world away from anything she'd witness before, and she'd always had a soft spot for men who knew how to act around elders. Then again, she thought with a silent giggle, he was probably _way _older than this lady.

"Are you going to let me be today, Madeline?" Klaus fired back.

"What is this about?" Caroline intervened.

"I been tryna convince M. Mikaelson here to let me do his portrait," the woman explained good-naturedly. "But that Old One? Stubborn as a damn mule."

The blonde threw her head back and laughed. It was nice to see that, although he appeared to be drastically different from what she knew, there were things about Klaus that would never change.

"That's an understatement," she confirmed.

"Ladies, I'm standing right here," Klaus whispered, although his annoyance was mostly faked. "Besides, what Madeline isn't telling you is that her _portraits _are a bit…magical, shall we say."

Caroline listened with great interest as the woman explained she didn't give a rat's ass about _Marcel's _rules, and that she'd keep painting until that _bastard _grew some balls and asked her to stop in person.

"Who's Marcel?" Caroline interrupted when she noticed the shadow passing through Klaus' eyes. "What are the rules?"

An awkward silence was the only answer she got, and her curiosity for Madeline made her disregard it. There would be time to question Klaus later. For the time being, she wanted to hear all about Madeline's craft. The old woman spoke with disarming humility, as if anything she had to say was mundane. To a certain extent, it was – in New Orleans, where any street dancer turned into a werewolf on full moons, a witch was hardly news.

But Madeline Carter wasn't just any witch. From her early childhood, she'd been raised to take on the family legacy and be a powerful voodoo priestess; but she'd taken quite a different route. She practiced witchcraft through art – she'd even made an honest living around the world thanks to that exceptional gift.

"But what is it that you do?" Caroline asked, fighting the urge to beg the old lady to paint her right away. "Why won't he let you do it?"

Klaus sighed audibly and rolled his eyes, sensing he was not getting out of it, this time. Madeline and her friendliness had gotten to Caroline – how had he not seen that coming? Those dimples of hers could have melt an iceberg, he would know. That woman held a special place in his heart, although he hadn't thought of her for lifetimes before his return to NOLA.

When the Mikaelsons first settled there, she'd filled the vacancy left by the witch Ayana. She'd taken upon herself to be their voodoo godmother of sorts, stopping at nothing to preserve the fragile equilibrium of the family – and failing miserably. And now she wanted to be Caroline's.

"She has the Sight," Klaus explained after a while. "Unlike other artists, Madeline doesn't need hours to memorize every feature on your face; what she stares at is your soul."

"Damn right," Madeline concurred. "And I don't mean to brag, but I ain't bad at what I do, missy."

Caroline giggled when Madeline winked at her and eyed Klaus with disapproval.

"Are you afraid she might have to throw black paint on canvas until she runs out of it?" she teased.

"Hilarious, really," Klaus mocked. "Her paintings reveal what your heart truly wants…and I _know _what that is."

If Caroline was going to be carefree for a day, she would _not _leave New Orleans without that portrait.

"Well, maybe _I_ don't," the blonde said.

Caroline held her hands over her mouth for a second, and she saw the defeat in Klaus' eyes. He wouldn't deny her anything – not today. She turned to Madeline and followed her impulse, enclosing the woman's hands into her own. The smile she received convinced her she was making the right decision; furthermore, that it was something she _needed _to do.

"You're going to do a portrait," Caroline smiled. "Of us, together."

Madeline's eyes shone with something like contentment, and only then did Caroline realize that she'd been hoping for that request. It only strengthened her determination – if the supernatural had a message to give her, then she was here to listen. She extended her hand to Klaus without breaking eye contact with Madeline, and giggled with satisfaction when the Hybrid complied. She squealed when his fingers easily entwined with hers.

"Sparks are flyin' I see," Madeline muttered to herself, only loud enough to be heard.

"How about you get started on the soul-reading and whatnot?" Klaus pressed. "We've got places to be."

"Rude," the old woman barked. "Now shut that big mouth of yours and strike the pose."

Glad to be back in her comfort zone, Caroline immediately assumed her Miss Mystic Falls posture, urging Klaus to accommodate her the best he could. She could only imagine what they looked like. He was standing behind her, his body angled to the side, his arms firmly wrapped around her waist. She'd seen that "Prom pose" on enough celebrity couples to know they were a perfect match.

The warm sunrays caressed her skin and reflected in the pale blue of his eyes. His sandy blonde hair, undisciplined as ever, were a perfect complement to her loose curls. Even their clothes matched.

Yes, they were picture-perfect. Any amount of energy she'd spent on denying it had been a cruel waste.

"Closer," Madeline demanded. "I promise he's not gon' bite you, miss Caroline."

Caroline grimaced at the thought of a bite from the hybrid – she'd been down that road before. Her body tensed momentarily, but under Madeline's scrutinizing gaze, she leaned into Klaus' embrace and was surprised to experience no shame.

"Much better, thank you," Madeline commented. "It'll be just a little longer."

"Take your time," Caroline whispered, briefly making eye contact with Klaus.

Her stomach curled in response to the discreet smile floating over his lips.

That man was the Big Bad Wolf. She was supposed to hate him. After everything he did to cause harm to her friends, he _deserved _to be hated. The list of his flaws was endless: he was selfish, manipulative, cruel, violent and so on.

_But that was a mask he wore. And she'd seen right through it, when he let her._

The dilemma was an endless one, but she'd done things the right way – breaking up with Tyler was the right thing to do. Because even if it turned out her doubts about Klaus were nothing more than that, the truth was that she wasn't _in love _with Tyler anymore.

She was now a single woman and enjoying the feeling of another skin against hers was something she didn't have to justify to anybody. She'd come all the way from Virginia to determine the exact nature of her feelings. Besides, if the woman could read into their soul, what use was it to hide?

"I got what I need," Madeline said after endless minutes. "Y'all come closer, now."

Klaus objected but let himself be dragged along. His relationship with Madeline always relied on a bit of conflict. Much like a spoiled child, he knew how to push it to the limit with her, but he also knew where to stop. Having her meet Caroline was actually a nerve-wracking experience. She was the closest thing he had to a mother, after all. And she had a significant asset: she could read Caroline like an open book.

Ever since Madeline's arrival, the blonde's defenses were down. Even the way she carried herself had changed; she readily inched towards him and glanced his way every now and then, almost as if they were _friends_. Her impromptu visit was a breath of fresh air; his mind was clouded with so many problems. He wanted his town back, and for that, he needed to figure out a way to take Marcel down – with the help of Madeline and the other witches, he could figure it out.

But the most pressing issue was Haley's pregnancy. Elijah was taking good care of her, thank Heavens. Klaus himself couldn't stand the sight of her; he felt trapped by the human infant that was growing inside of her. An heir was a glorious idea; Elijah argued it was exactly what he needed to start over. And he was right – but the thought of becoming a father terrified him, although he'd be damned before he let anybody know.

"Are we done, here, Maddie?" he asked, impatient to push these thoughts away and continue his day with Caroline.

He was about to break the pose, but Madeline's wrinkled hand stopped his gesture, keeping his hands on Caroline.

Caroline gasped as a wave of electricity took over her body, leaving her breathless. Her sight became blurred for a second, and she heard Madeline chanting in a language she couldn't identify. She considered freaking out. _Was she putting a spell on them? Those sneaky witches._

She wanted to stop Maddie, push her away – do _something_ – but the louder the witch chanted, the more her resolve flickered. The idea of _resisting _altogether became foreign to her. Her instinct was usually good at figuring people out, and she was certain she could trust that woman not to put her in any kind of danger. Or, you know, not the potentially lethal kind of danger.

On the contrary, Klaus tensed, even though Maddie was as harmless as they came. Contrary to popular belief, voodoo was nothing like dark magic or expression. For as long as he'd known her, she had used her abilities to help people find their way. And he was terrified at the thought that she was once again minding everything _but _her own business.

The two vampires exchanged puzzled glances as their skins began to tingle, and instinctively held on tighter to each other.

"Caroline, are you alright, love?" Klaus asked. "Your hands are freezing."

_Cold as marble, _she thought. Exactly the way they were supposed to be when Tyler returned. That was the way her body reacted when she was nervous, or when she'd waited for something that was _finally _happening. Being here, with Klaus, feeling free – had she been waiting for that?

Madeline chuckled as if she'd been able to read Caroline's mind. The young vampire shrugged and gently removed Klaus' hands from her.

"Yeah, well I'm dead, Klaus, so…"

Klaus froze for a second and burst out laughing. The sound cajoled Caroline into a bubble of warmth that took her off-guard. She'd never heard him laugh like this before – freely. It seemed like he was shaking in slow motion, flashing white teeth in the sun, his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

_Genuine beauty_.

The mere possibility that such a dark soul was capable of shining so bright, in broad daylight, was proof that Caroline had been right to grow some and get on a plane here. Because whatever happened at the end of those twenty-four hours, Klaus had just given her what she needed. A fleeting moment, seemingly suspended above all else, that would accompany her through what was coming next. A symbol of hope.

Madeline cleared her throat, breaking the spell.

"Y'all come pick up your portrait before your _arrangement _ends," she said with a knowing smile. "Oh and do me a favor…

"What, now?" Klaus growled.

The woman smirked at him.

"Please, _do _enjoy your day."

* * *

**Author's Note: Why, hello readers. It's been a long, long time. Here I am with a very short fic that's been on my mind all summer. Still can't believe Klaroline is off the table. That's what is for, right? So... What do you think, so far? I know it lacks a little context at the beginning but that will come later on. What do you think Madeline's portrait will show? Leave me a comment and share your thoughts :) Oh - I'm not going to include characters from the Originals btw.**


	2. Chapter 2

"We're here," Klaus announced.

Caroline held her breath for a moment as she contemplated the edifice. She'd seen pictures of St Louis Cathedral, of course. Needless to say, pictures didn't do it justice. It wasn't so much about the beauty of the architecture, or the way the sun reflected perfectly upon it; no, there was something about the _aura _of this place that got to Caroline and left her speechless.

As if to welcome them, the bells started ringing, clanging a slightly off-key sound. Caroline had always been oddly responsive to that sound, feeling like it was an invitation to _something_. She motioned for Klaus to follow her inside, absentmindedly taking him by the hand. If he was surprised by the initiative, he said nothing. However, he did question her about her sudden halt, a second before they crossed the threshold.

The blonde squirmed under his gaze, and he had to bury the urge to cup her cheek and tell her that whatever it was, it would be alright.

"I haven't— it's silly," she sighed. "But last time I went into a church, a hunter opened fire on us and Tyler almost got killed. Maybe people like us shouldn't be in there."

She bit her lip and lowered her gaze to the ground, visibly overwhelmed by the majesty of the building. Klaus observed her with great curiosity – he never thought Caroline was pious.

"I am no expert, sweetheart, but it seems to me that God calls to the saint _and _the sinner," he argued. "Mostly the latter."

She let out a bitter laugh that died in her throat when she felt Klaus' fingers lift her chin up until their eyes met. Her heart engaged in a frantic drumroll as she faced him for what seemed to be the first time. She rediscovered the masculine contours of his face, his squared jaw, the light stubble on his cheeks. He was breathtaking.

"Let's take a picture and get out of here," he offered, pulling his phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

"I'm pretty sure there's a scientific word for people who're addicted to their phone."

"Nomophobia," he replied, deadpan.

The blonde sighed in defeat and confiscated Klaus' phone, causing him to groan.

"I'm a sinner," she echoed, visibly horrified.

"I am forced to agree," he said, looking her right in the eyes. "The way you look should be a sin."

The apparent gravity of the moment disappeared into Caroline's incredulous laugh and the mock sound of pain that escaped Klaus when she pinched his arm.

"_You my sensation_?" she finished for him. "Seriously, Klaus? Kanye West?"

"I have to live with my time," he shrugged. "Hence the nomophobia."

Caroline shook her head and headed to Jackson Square, willing to take this opportunity to get away from the cathedral. She picked a bench with a nice view on it though, unable to tear her eyes away from the sanctuary.

"I would have thought you were more of a Jay Z kind of guy," she said distractedly.

"Nobody's perfect."

Klaus joined her and naturally sat close, his arm hanging loosely on the bench behind her. She eyed him with a smile and realized it didn't bother her, at all. She wasn't supposed to be here and she wasn't supposed to be here _with him_ – but since she was going to Hell, she might as well enjoy herself on the way there.

"In all seriousness," Klaus began softly, his voice deep and vibrant with sincerity. "Saints miss out on all the fun, angel."

Caroline focused to keep her eyes on the constant flow of people coming and going, to avoid looking at Klaus. She was unbearably aware of the lack of space between them. Her bare arms brushing against the flannel of his shirt, their legs touching – it was becoming too much for her stressed mind to deal with. Ever since they'd left Madeline, she was expecting sparks to fly out of her mouth every time she'd lie about being attracted to him, or something equally insane; she was on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, but nothing had happened.

_If "nothing" was the definition of "butterflies flying in her stomach when he touched her face, implied she was beautiful, and called her angel"._

"So," Caroline prompted. "What's the story?"

"What story?"

"You know stories about every single thing on the planet," she mocked. "So what's the story?"

"Ahem...well, this is the oldest continuously operating cathedral in the United States."

Caroline quirked a perfect eyebrow at him.

"I read Wikipedia, you know," she pouted.

Klaus shook with silent laughter, catching the glimpse of challenge in her blue eyes. She did seem to be the type of woman who loved to be entertained, and he'd be damned if he disappointed her.

"I could tell you stories until the end of time," he whispered, almost to himself.

"Tell me one now," she urged, reluctant to let silence settle.

"There _is _a legend," he began, and her eyes immediately lit up.

Her hand landed on top of his knee, and it took all of Klaus' willpower not to jump at the electrifying contact.

"In the eighteenth century, New Orleans became Spanish territory. The French residents tried to resist and Spain had them all executed. The man in charge of the attack, an Irish expatriate, refused to let the ringleaders be buried, causing devastation among the people."

Caroline shivered and bit her tongue. She wanted to ask Klaus if he'd been there, if he'd seen it happen. In his mouth, every story sounded like a memory.

"But there was a priest," he continued, "named Père Dagobert. Legend has it he performed a miracle and retrieved the bodies from the Spanish garrison to give them a proper funeral in the rain."

For a moment, Caroline became distracted by an old lady walking by. Their eyes met and the blonde blushed furiously at the benevolent look in the stranger's eyes. There was something oddly familiar about that woman, although she knew for certain they had never met. After a while, she noticed the woman was staring at her hand. The hand that was resting on Klaus' knee as he got carried away with the telling of his story.

Caroline bit her lip, hesitant about what to do. In that woman's eyes, she and Klaus were a couple – she knew it. The thought should have made her panic, but New Orleans wasn't home – nobody here could make the weight of their judgment crush her; she needed to be in a foreign place to become who she truly was.

She didn't remove her hand. Instead, she focused her attention back on Klaus, just in time to hear the end of the story.

"On certain rainy nights, people say they've heard the voice of a man singing the _Kyrie_ between the Cathedral and the cemetery."

"It's the priest, right?" she guessed. "Père Dagobert?"

"That's what the legend says," he said dubiously.

"And we both know supernatural legends are just folkore," she winked.

"Exactly," Klaus approved. "Except for that one tale, maybe you've heard of it: it's called _Beauty and the Beast_."

Caroline giggled.

"Belle didn't have fangs, Klaus," she said. "Keep trying."

* * *

Caroline lowered her eyes to the plate an overfriendly waitress had just brought her, wondering if every single inhabitant of New Orleans came with a wide grin and inappropriate familiarity – before she realized she didn't care. She was starving.

She'd done her research before boarding the plane, because it was not in her nature to come unprepared. She'd come up with a small bucket list of things to do in New Orleans: the Cathedral had been one, but having a meal at _Mr. B's Bistro_ was on top of it. Every single review was raving about this place; she'd spent hours staring that their website.

However, as she felt for a shrimp in her Seafood Gumbo, she couldn't help a grimace of apprehension.

"How can something smell so good and look so _disgusting_?" she complained, abandoning the shrimp in the sticky stew. "It's beyond me."

Klaus smirked and stuffed a mouthful of the bistro's special, _Gumbo Ya-Ya_, in his mouth. She scrutinized his face for any sign of distaste but found none. A quick glance around the room confirmed that almost everyone had ordered some sort of gumbo, and was absolutely enjoying it.

"This is delicious," Klaus assured. "I _have _been trying to tell you: appearances are deceiving."

The blonde polished off her glass of French wine, grateful for a vampire metabolism that wouldn't allow tipsiness before the sixth or seven_ bottle_.

"Now you're comparing yourself to a _dish_? You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" she mocked.

"You can't even begin to imagine."

Caroline held his gaze for a second longer than necessary, feeling goose bumps arise on her skin just by the way he was looking at her. She inhaled deeply, hoping she wasn't blushing.

There was always a hidden message behind the looks he gave her; she was simply too buried in denial to see it. But now, reality was hitting her full force, tying her stomach into knots.

_So that's what it felt like to be desired by a man. _

With a heavy sigh, she decided her plate demanded her immediate attention, and boldly went for a mouthful of gumbo. Her eyes closed in apprehension and she held her breath for a second before chewing like there was a capsule of cyanide in her mouth.

Klaus did his best to keep a straight face, but the sight of one Caroline Forbes chewing on her food like a reluctant child was worth the detour. Her nose wrinkled in anticipation and she tentatively chewed. A second later, she opened one eye, then the other, swallowing all of the food she'd ingested.

"Youwereright," she muttered, visibly annoyed that she had to admit it.

"Pardon me? I can't hear you over the indescribable bliss of wisdom and experience."

"Shut up."

"Yes ma'am," he complied good-naturedly.

He'd become aware of people's eyes on them, as had she at the square. On his side, however, the discovery came with a surprising pleasure. He was barely making his way back into this town, and he'd broken a few necks to make a point – as per usual. Klaus Mikaelson was feared because he had a reputation for bad temper, not to mention he was Marcel's best frienemy.

But ever since he'd walked in with Caroline on his arm, people were looking at him differently. Some had even smiled; not the kind of affected smile you gave someone who might lose his nerve and rip your heart out, no. The kind that naturally surfaced in the presence of _love_.

"You're having a child," Caroline said, out of the blue.

Klaus looked up, his eyes nearly jumping out of his head. She'd enunciated the fact with clinical detachment, simply for what it was – a fact. Her face remained childishly enthusiastic as she feasted on her _gumbo _and he almost wanted to pretend she hadn't spoken so this day could carry on as pleasantly as it had. But she was Caroline Forbes; stubborn was her middle name.

"You're going to be a father," she said. "That's big."

_Bigger than him, maybe. _

"I suppose, yes."

"You _suppose_?" she frowned severely. "Please tell me you've thought about this."

Klaus abruptly put down his cutlery and pinched the bridge of his nose. Women had a way of always asking the most _inconvenient _questions at the most _inconvenient _times, and that one certainly was the Queen. He'd known her long enough to have no doubt – he would not leave this table until she had all the information she wanted.

"What is it you'd like to know, Caroline?" he asked coldly. "Having a child was never in the cards for me."

"You should have read _Twilight,_" she said lightly. "You would have been up to speed."

"Your sense of humor never fails to amaze me."

"Relax, Klaus," she laughed.

"Easier said than done, sweetheart," he objected. "I feel like I'm facing the Spanish Inquisition - _again_."

"Oh, that is _so_ sweet, thanks," she chirped as she motioned for another bottle of wine. "Now, tell me what kind of father you're going to be."

Silence fell upon them for a while, and Caroline almost regretted asking the question.

"A bad one," he finally confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Terrible."

Any trace of amusement vanished from Caroline's face as she realized she had crossed a line. The sudden wariness of Klaus' face caused her heart to clench painfully. An unexpected wave of tenderness rushed through her and she abandoned her cutlery to put a soothing hand on top of his.

"Don't—" he began, but she cut him off.

"We both have our daddy issues," she said softly. "But in my book, that just means we know exactly what _not _to do. Plus side: we can never be worse than them."

Although she was usually very polite with waiters (one good thing she'd gotten out of her relationship with Matt Donovan), Caroline completely ignored the young woman who came to open the bottle of wine and poured them a glass each. All the while, she kept her hand on Klaus' and her eyes in his, trying to silently convince him that he _did _have a chance at redemption.

But that was assuming he _wanted _redemption.

That was the only question she needed to know the answer to, she realized.

She grabbed her glass and raised it for a belated toast.

"To the sins of our fathers," she improvised. "May they help us be better."

Klaus silently touched his glass to hers, the ghost of a smile surfacing on his lips. He truly was in awe of how big a heart she had, even when it came to him, even after everything.

"To the sins of your fathers."

* * *

**Author's Note : hello everyone and thank you so much for your reviews. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to get back to you, but I will soon. In the meantime, here's a little something for ya. I hope you've enjoyed it. If you'd like to see something particular happen, let me know. xox**


	3. Chapter 3

Klaus observed with incredulity as Caroline engaged in conversation with a man who drove mule-drawn carriages around town; sensing she was a visitor, he'd been trying to convince her to take a tour through the _Vieux Carré _for the last five minutes. Saying she was enthusiastic would have been an understatement.

"We're not into the whole romantic cliché," Klaus objected after taking care of the check.

He slid a possessive arm around Caroline, slightly unnerved by the way that _Disney prince _was eyeing her. The blonde relaxed against him, and he didn't miss the smirk she gave him.

"Well, if you'd like a good fright," the driver said, "I can take you to the Dark Side of the French Quarter."

There was no doubt Caroline had done her research about Marie Laveau or slave-torturer Delphine LaLaurie, but he had personally known the latter and even _he_ wasn't as vile. He turned to Caroline for confirmation and she shook her head vigorously.

"We've got enough ghosts and darkness in our lives, thank you very much," Klaus dismissed. "Where do you suggest we spend a quiet afternoon?"

The driver thought for a second before assuring he could take them to the riverfront, if they wanted to go. Caroline clapped her hands in delight, and Klaus couldn't bring himself to emphasize that they were about to _parade _around town in a carriage. Just this once, he would indulge her – and indulge himself.

M. Driver opened the door for Caroline, causing Klaus to huff under his breath. After they hopped into the carriage that was parked just a few feet away, the blonde elbowed him in the ribcage.

"You're being rude to that guy," she whispered.

"Actually, angel, he's being rude to you," he replied. "A true gentleman always enters and exits a room _before_ his ladylove, to make sure it's safe."

Caroline giggled at his use of the term "ladylove" and he caught that glimpse in her eyes again; the one she'd been unable to conceal when he first told her he fancied her – the one she stopped hiding when he told her he wanted to be her last love.

"Not everyone has been around _forever_, M. Alpha Male," she said with a smile. "Give him a break."

"I don't like the way he's looking at you," he added. "Perhaps I should put out his eyes and feed them to him."

"Klaus, I swear to God—"

He grinned, causing her to huff lightly. She shook her head and let herself become absorbed in the contemplation of Royal Street, with its antique stores and fancy shops.

For once, Klaus didn't feel the need to shower her with anecdotes about the buildings they were walking by; silence sat between them, quickly swallowed by the distant sound of street performers.

The faith that Caroline seemed to have in his abilities to be a decent father left his mind confused – in a good way. She had seen a great deal of his darkness; she'd been subjected to it on multiple occasions. His temper was sometimes incontrollable; he was impatient and impossibly demanding. How would he ever raise a child?

"I'd love to see a street show," Caroline said timidly, touching his arm to get his attention.

"We'll stop on Bourbon Street on the way back," he promised, immediately diving back into his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," Caroline said immediately. "I shouldn't have talked about…the baby."

His eyes focused back on her face, and he forced a smile on his lips.

"You should never apologize for being honest with me."

Before she had time to answer, the carriage came to a halt, and their driver motioned for them to enjoy the view. They'd reached the riverfront, and the perfect weather had drawn out the crowds. Lovers, families, loners with a good book – New Orleans at its best. Klaus hopped off the carriage and helped Caroline down, all the while paying the driver.

He watched as she stood breathless, trying to commit everything she saw to memory. She quickly found the ideal spot for their afternoon and took off her shoes to feel the grass under her feet. She zigzagged through the couples, families and book-lovers, and picked a spot with a great view on the Mississippi River Bridge.

Much to his surprise, she sat readily. She retrieved her sunshades from her purse and patted the spot next to her for him to sit. Like the gentleman he truly was, he shrugged off his jacket and insisted to have her sit on it.

"Don't be silly," she objected. "That jacket looks pricey."

"I wouldn't want you to get dirty."

She smiled at the innuendo and rolled her eyes when she realized he was serious. Surprising him once more, Caroline grabbed two fistfuls of grass and dirt and rubbed them all over her beige blouse, laughing heartily as his jaw fell.

"Look at that," she mocked. "Little girly Caroline has dirt on her shirt and she's not sobbing in a corner."

"You're mad," he said, sitting beside her. "Completely mad."

She shrugged.

"What's _mad_ is the two of us here together."

Klaus sat by her side and looked around, relishing in the sense of ordinariness that came with this conversation. To the outside eye, they were just another couple out in the sun; it was the first time in decades that he'd felt so normal, and he was the first surprised to admit that he wasn't entirely appalled by the feeling.

"We've had our moments," he argued.

"Everything seems so long ago."

"It does," he agreed. "Especially that time you said you were too smart to be seduced by me."

She finally gave up on her contemplation of the river and lied back on the grass, her eyes still shielded behind sunglasses. Her cheeks took an adorable rosy shade, and he smiled to himself.

"You remember that," she laughed, feigning embarrassment.

"Everything you said to me," he said strongly.

He lied down beside her, supporting his head with his elbow.

"Every single word," he insisted.

"Prove it."

Klaus laughed; he never turned down a challenge and Caroline knew it. He cleared his throat and began to recite different things she'd said like: that he didn't connect to people because he didn't try to understand them, that she'd rather die of thirst than join he and Kol for a drink, that she needed to sanitize her mouth after kissing him in Tyler's body, that he was perfect when he showed up at the Miss Mystic Pageant, that sometimes, she caught herself wishing she could forget all of the horrible things he'd done…

Caroline took off her sunglasses to let him see just how surprised she was that he'd held on to her every word for so long, even when she'd repeatedly pushed him away.

"And that time I said I knew you were in love with me," she whispered.

Klaus swallowed and let out a shaky breath. That hadn't been his most glorious hour; after biting her and leaving her to die for the sake of teaching Tyler a lesson, he'd disrespected everything about her and the fragile equilibrium between them. But even as she was agonizing, she'd found a way to see right through him.

"You said that anybody capable of love was capable of being saved."

Caroline turned her head to face him. In the blinding light, her eyes were clear as pure crystal, and he could see the shadow of doubt ghosting over them. His heart clenched at the expectancy that was dripping from her gaze.

"And do you want to be saved?"

"I want to be King," he answered sadly, echoing the conversation he had with Elijah.

"Is that what Madeline's portrait is going to show, then?" she asked quite sadly. "Is that what you want the most?"

Klaus felt her heart break a little when he nodded.

"What about you?" he said after counting to fifty to calm his nerves. "You never told me about those hopes and dreams of yours."

He noticed that she didn't make eye contact with him, but her voice wasn't as cold as he had expected.

"I'm hoping Madeline can help me figure it out," she confessed. "I've been a little…lost."

"Then tell me about before you got lost."

A smile surfaced on her lips. To this day, she remained profoundly surprised that a man like him would sit through an entire conversation with her.

"When I turned, one of the first things I said to Elena was that she should break up with Stefan, because she was too maternal to _not _have children," she said quietly.

Klaus stayed silent, curious about where she was going with that. She had closed her eyes and the nostalgic look on her face made his heart ache for her. She was still so young.

"I would have been a good mom."

Klaus cleared his throat as a warning – she was slipping back into dangerous territory.

"There are other ways," he simply said.

"I know."

Klaus didn't miss the hint of bitterness in her voice.

Caroline gave him a one of those smiles. Why was it that she always had to work so hard for things that others seemed to get effortlessly?

Even though Stefan was now one of her best friends and she no longer saw him _that way,_ she couldn't forget the night he told her nothing would ever happen between them. After that, she'd tried to make it work with Damon, who happened to be madly in love with Elena as well.

And now Klaus was conceiving babies he didn't even want.

A remote part of her couldn't help but wonder if_ he _was the key to solving this mystery. Because if he was… Maybe he could have more children? She shrugged it off. Thinking like that would lead to trouble, and she'd had enough of that for the next century.

"I wanted to be a journalist," she continued. "But I'm terrible with words so I'd probably end up working for a gossip magazine."

He shook his head in amusement – it amazed him, really, how she could be a confident woman one minute and become this self-deprecating little girl the next. He liked that about her – that she could tell him to go to Hell and then ask for guidance.

"You can do anything you want to do, and you know it," he said. "Stop being afraid."

"Right now, I just want to be more," she said seriously.

"More what, angel?"

Caroline blushed. With everything that was going on in Mystic Falls, she didn't really have time for soul-searching; she had been reflecting upon who she was and who she wanted to be, but the opportunity to discuss it with a friend had never presented itself. To be completely honest, these thoughts belonged to a part of Caroline Forbes that even she was barely familiar with.

"You can talk to me," Klaus encouraged. "I'll understand."

She sat up, slightly aggravated by his patience.

"Of course, you will. You're a billion years old, you've been through _every _stage of life at least ten times."

Klaus said nothing; he'd learnt over time that she never got aggressive for sport. He had put her on the spot with his question and he was willing to give her time to formulate a response. He shifted slightly from his position to sit right in front of her, his face bathed in the sunlight. Caroline sighed.

"I want to be more than _me_," she finally blurted out. "More than who I am right now. More cultured, more intelligent, more confident.…"

"Caroline 2.0," he said.

"Exactly. An upgraded version."

"I'm not sure the world is ready for that, love," he said.

He decided against his better judgment and put a hand on her knee. His fingers twitched at the contact of her fresh skin.

"I know I'm not."

He bit his tongue when she smiled.

* * *

**Author's Note : Hello, people who have read this. I sure hope you did like seeing Caroline opening up to Klaus a little bit more. What do you think will happen at the end of the day? Half of Klaus' time has gone by - do you think he's making progress with her? Thank you for reading and reviewing xo**


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